First off, I apologize to my friends and roleplay partners who've been left hanging. Any desire to cancel old threads is completely understandable.

I've been struggling with a serious health issue the past several months. There was a long period where things would seem to improve only to relapse, delaying things further. All that aside, just wanted to let people know I'm around again and to contact me via PM or Trillian - ironsoldier, if anyone wants to get things going again.

Amy, Army was learning, had this weird talent for being sexy and annoying at the same time. On one hand, the way she fought and the passion she packed into every blow was incredible. She was brave and fierce, and there was just something alluring about a girl who wouldn't back down for anything. Pressed all the right buttons.

On the other hand, he was starting to feel like she was taking him down by inches, and he wasn't quite what he could do to stop it. It would help if she'd stop being so attractive so he could stop thinking about how pretty she looked while she kicked his ass, but she couldn't turn that off.

He moved towards her and tried to ready a punch with enough power to lay her out, going for a fierce right cross, but she was in motion before he could even get to the startup. He took a knee in the chest for his efforts and grunted at the impact, as bone cracked against bone. The blow seemed to dig into his skin, sunk in deep, and sent him staggering back into the corner while he clutched his chest.

Amy knew that she had hurt Army with that knee because her knee felt like it had rammed into a concrete wall after she'd landed. But finally having driven Army into a corner meant that she had an opportunity. And, as tempting as it was to rush in head long and go punch happy on Army's torso, she wasn't deluded enough to think that someone her size was about to take down a heavyweight boxer like that. At least, not this early in the fight.

But it would have been fun.

No, Amy decided to invest in the long term. Still feeling the urge to end the fight before Army figured out how to deal with her, Amy stepped in and twisted her body. She brought her leg in, then shot it straight out, throwing a side kick that aimed to bury a heel deep into Army's gut.

If there was one thing that Army's father drilled into him to the point of annoyance, it was the importance of proper positioning. He tended to fight in a basic style, keeping things simple and straight, and that meant he could get put in a bad place by an opponent who was savvy enough to work him around the ring the right way. Amy was that type of opponent from the looks of things, and he could almost imagine the heaps of crap his old man would be throwing his way if he watched this.

She was good, real good, but Army was far from finished. Much closer than he would've liked and you'd ever think a girl Amy's size could get, but he had a few tricks left to try.

He wound up taking the kick to his gut, feeling like he got hit by a miniature cannonball. It drove the wind clean out of him, but it was a good wakeup call, too - his target was right there, right in front of him, and he had to make the most of the situation.

Army grabbed the ropes, leaned back for leverage, lifted his leg up and shot it straight out, trying to boot her in the chest before she could get out of his range.

The kick plowed deep into Army’s belly, and she could hear the air evacuating from Army’s lungs. It opened the door to all sorts of combos, attack chains that she’d reminisce about that night before she fell asleep, and maybe dream about after. Amy could almost taste it.

Then that door slammed shut when, barely after her own foot had returned to the ground, Army’s shot out and struck her clean in the chest. “Guah!” Amy was standing a bit closer than she needed to be to get the maximum effect out of her kick. Army’s leg, obviously, was considerably longer than Amy’s, so the push knocked her clean off of her feet and landed her in the very center of the ring. Amy winced, coughing, and her hands flew to the point of impact, where it felt as if Army had exploded a grenade.

Amy stayed on her back for a second, closing her eyes and putting her head back. “Damnit.” The fight may have had her nibbling Army away by inches, but every strike Army landed took away whole yards at a time. That’s why she had to make the most of every advantage that she got- because when she had taken about ten hits, she needed him to have taken maybe fifty to be on equal ground. And that was why she was mourning the lost opportunity now.

But in the next second she was ready again- head up, eyes open, body ready to roll away from flying Puerto Rican. "Come on, Army, don't be like that. You might have liked what I had planned for you there. It was gonna be real special." She didn’t get up by first getting to her hands and knees this time; she didn’t need Army to pull something behind her back again. Instead, she slid away on her back to a safe distance before cautiously pulling herself to a sitting position, and then got back to her feet from there.

Army wanted to say that Amy floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee, but that wasn't exactly right. She zipped around like a fly and stung like a goddamn hornet, and it was starting to become readily apparent that his strategy of hoping to get lucky with his punches wasn't going to work forever. Even with the size difference, there were ways she could do him some serious damage if he wasn't careful, and Army could see those beady little blue eyes of hers looking out for them.

Of course, he couldn't see them right now - she was too busy wincing for him to get a good look. In fact, she was on the floor, looking quite vulnerable and wide open. Practically begging for a free hit, and he just had to take the bait.

Army moved in, brought his elbow up, and tried to come down on her with a quick drop. It would've been a good followup, if it hit. It didn't. Amy was already gone, leaving his hard bone to crack into the unforgiving canvas. "Fuck!" He rolled to the side, nursing the bruised bone as he tried to stand up, too. Nothing too serious, but he had to wartch crap like that. Damaging his two best weapons was only going to make this fight harder than it already was.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just sure." He grabbed the ropes with one hand and started to pull his way back up. "Why don't you show me after you wake up from the KO, huh?"

Amy laughed. “Alright, then, let’s get to knocking me out then, because it’s some good shit. Though, if it hasn’t happened yet, it’s probably because one of us isn't doing his job right.” She tapped the side of her head, as if painting a big red target on it. “Come on, Army, pick up the pace. Team effort.”

Army was pulling himself up from his elbow failed drop by the ropes, and Amy’s heart started to beat a little faster. If she had any elaborate plans to wear Army away by strategic attrition, she instantly forgot them as exactly one thought occupied her mind: Knee, face. She started to run, then sprint. Knee, face. She didn’t care that she’d hit him with a flying knee not a minute ago. Knee face. All that mattered was that Army was low enough that she could reach her knee to his head. She leaped forward. “KNEEFACE!” she yelled as she thrust out exuberantly with her knee.

Army just rolled his eyes as he continued to make the slow trek back to his feet, groggily hauling himself back up. His funny bone was aching and it numbed up his arm, but he'd taken worse. Half a minute and it would be good to go again.

Of course, with Amy, thirty seconds could really stretch. "Patience, rubia. Good things come to those who-"

Amy's knee cracked him hard right in the center of his face and made him stand at attention with his head looking at the ceiling. His nostril's filled up with that familiar, metallic scent - blood. She'd busted his nose.

He fell back against the ropes, wrapping one arm around the rope to support himself while he covered up his face with the spare hand. He could already feel the dripping on his palm.

Amy was a speedy fighter, that much no one could deny. But it’s unclear just how much of her speed came from active decision making, and how much was pure reflex. For example, whenever an opponent presented to her an opportunity in the form of a doubled over position, it took her body no time at all to launch into a flying knee or an upper cut. She almost couldn’t decide not to do it; it’s too deeply programmed in.

That’s why, when Army was up leaning against the ropes, reeling from her knee, Amy'd already thrown her two followup uppercuts into his torso, quick as you like, and retreated back out of range before the give she felt on her knee against his face had registered, and the almost dainty hand Army had against his nose started to make sense.

Amy kept up her stance, but she was frowning. The knee felt good, and she wanted to keep going. She didn’t think that Army would stop the fight for a little bleeding- he wasn’t Nathan, after all- but she did care enough to check. Less than sensitively, of course: “You good, Army? Need to submit, get that looked at?”

And that was Army's first nosebleed of the year. A lot earlier than he would have expected from a much smaller opponent than he would have thought. It made his wish he had a camera to cherish the moment. And a towel. A nice, wet, absorbant towel.

He grunted with each little blast into his stoamch, spurting out more and more blood with every hit she landed. He swung out, long and wild, with his spare hand to try and clip her...but, once again, she was gone before his blow could even get close, and he was left swinging at the air. Clever girl.

"Touching." He ran his taped arm along his nose, wiping off most of it and leaving a slight stain on his tanned skin. When his face came back into view, it was smiling. "You want to come over here and kiss it and make it better? Huh?"

He shook his head to clear it up and moved back into his orthodox stance, starting to bounce towards her once again. "You know I'll get you sooner or later, right?" He threw out a fake jab her way, then followed it up with a real one, both of them aimed at her head. "You'll mess up, and when you do..."

Amy grinned. Army was the fucking best. "I'll do whatever you want after the match is over. Some of it might even make you feel better. But you're gonna like all of it, count on that."

Amy hid behind her arms. The first jab never materialized, but she left it up long enough for the second punch she knew was coming to explode over her forearms, lighting them on fire. Twos again. A friend would let Army know. An opponent would keep mum and bleed that pattern dry. Amy had the unique position of being both, so... she decided to wait until after the match was over.

Amy retaliated with a swift kick to Army's side and backed away. "When I do... I'm hoping to have you a drooling mess on the ground by then, so I think I'll be okay."